An Empath's Emotions
by Pink.And.Black.Converse
Summary: No one short of another empath could know how he felt. No one even came close; not Carlisle or Esme or even the resident mind reader. Not even his Alice was on the exact same page as he was. Yes, Jasper was alone. ONESHOT.


**Hello everyone, I'm... well, you can see my penname above. This thing won't let me save it for some reason. Anyway, t****his is my first story published under this account. Perhaps you've seen it on my previous account, perhaps not. If you have, I assure you I didn't lift it. PM me if you doubt and I'll prove to you that I and the authoress are one and the same. I delted it from that account though and will not be stating my old penname.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight or it's characters. I own this fic, and can prove my identity if I must.**

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Sometimes, Alice and Jasper would lie outside the Cullen home under a large willow tree. The two immortals would watch the clouds peacefully, which is something no one else knew they did. Alice liked it because, no matter how long they lived, she could always see something different in the clouds. They were one of the few things that changed for the better. One of the few things she knew could never turn on her and hurt her. They were soft, innocent, fluffy.

Jasper liked it because even though he saw nothing but clouds (he wasn't that whimsical, you know), he was with Alice and could feel the joy radiating off of her. At the end of their little sessions, Jasper would always remark about happy the clouds made Alice. Alice would tell him that only a little of her joy was due to the clouds. She would always tell him that the most joy she ever had was knowing that, even though he didn't care much for the clouds, he would be out there with her. For her. Always.

They never talked all that much while cloud watching. It was pretty much a constant, the way they did things. Alice would just get the longing to see the sky, and Jasper's empathy picked up on it. He would take her by the hand softly and allow her to lead him out to her tree. Their tree. Their happy place.

When it was sunny out, with not that many clouds, Jasper would stretch out on the grass and Alice would lay her head on his chest, curling up around him like a kitten. He would then put his arm around her shoulder and hold on tightly, wishing he would never have to let go.

When it was very cloudy out, they would sit next to each other, propped against the tree, and Alice would hold Jasper just as tightly as he held her.

When it was about to rain and the thunder wasn't sharp enough for baseball, well, that was the hardest time of all. Jasper was humiliated every time it happened, but his empathy helped him when he realized Alice didn't pity him at all. She still felt the same about him as she always had; she loved him and nothing would be changing that. She never thought him a coward.

The thing was, Jasper didn't like the rain. The storms, the rain, the thunder and lightening, it all reminded him of his darkest days. It reminded him of his times before Alice. It reminded him of how he killed innocent people and destroyed innocent vampires.

The storms talked to Jasper, telling him he was a useless coward. That he murdered because he was too weak to say no. That no one loved him.

Jasper knew it wasn't true. He knew he was loved. He knew he was brave enough and strong enough. But the storms made him remember. The storms made him doubt himself.

And after a while, he could feel something new with Alice. Guilt when she held him. Shame. Embarrassment. Pity. He was beginning to disgust, he thought. Just as he always knew he would.

He hated the deep, loud claps of thunder and the way he jumped whenever he wasn't careful to stop himself. He only let Alice see him be startled by it, albeit reluctantly. No one else knew he was scared by the storms, not even the resident mind reader. Alice and Jasper were careful to never think of their times like that with Edward around.

Jasper hated the lightening, too. He hated it because it was worse than the sun was; it threw his many scars into sharper relief. They looked more gruesome. They made him look dangerous and scary. They made him feel like a monster.

When it was about to rain, Alice still held Jasper tighter than anyone's been held before. And, as much as he wanted to, Jasper couldn't hold Alice back during those times. She had his arms pinned at his sides and wouldn't let go until the storm passed and he stopped shaking. She never left him alone during a storm like that. She never let him be too afraid. Yet he felt she did it out of habit…

In reality, Alice never thought he was a monster. Alice never thought he was a coward. To Alice, he was only Jasper. But it was getting hard for him to believe that. Still, even as he started believing she thought about him the way he did, Jasper couldn't stop loving her.

He would never be able to tell her exactly how much that meant to him. Even if he let Edward into his head during his most vulnerable moments, during the fear, the self-loathing, the joy of being with Alice, well, Edward wouldn't get it either. Thoughts weren't enough to tell how much he loved her.

Once, right after he almost lost his brother to the Volturi, there was a particularly bad storm. Jasper ended up hiding in his room, unable to force himself to be outside with Alice. He was on his bed that was rarely used, laying there in a somewhat fetal position, when Alice came in. She didn't say a word. She just got up on the bed with him and held him the way she always did.

And Jasper knew that if vampires could cry, that's what he'd be doing. He would cry because he was embarrassed. He would cry because he was terrified of how close they had come to losing Edward. He would cry, most of all, because he might have lost Alice that day, too. And losing his Alice was losing his entire world.

But he couldn't cry. He could only feel Alice's love for him and tell himself that it was going to be alright. He could, and did, try to distract himself for the storm. He thought very briefly of what would happen if the others saw him like that.

Carlisle and Esme, he decided, would probably pity him. He shuddered uncontrollably. He hated having pity directed at him. It made him feel weaker than he already did.

Rosalie, he thought, wouldn't really care. He would understand, and would not hold it against her. She had her own things to deal with during storms. She had her own troubles to sort through, most likely scarier than his. She dealt with it better than he did, he told himself. He was really the weakest of all the Cullens, he thought sadly.

He tried to finish distracting himself.

Edward, being a mind reader, would have to understand…Somewhat. 'He would never mock me,' Jasper told himself. 'He might pity me though, and I can't take that.'

'Emmett…' Jasper didn't even want to think of that. His big brother was usually very kind and only meant well, but his 'jokes' could sometimes be cruel. He'd already taken to calling Jasper an 'Emo' during the last fifty or so years. Jasper didn't even _want _to imagine what Emmett would say.

Bella? She was part of the family now. Well, almost. All she needed was for Edward to change her….

She would understand, Jasper decided. She wouldn't pity him. She would be there for him if she could, but more than likely Edward was still having her avoid him. Her blood still made his throat burn. He still couldn't control himself at all.

No one knew what it was like to be Jasper Hale. No one knew what it used to be like, being Jasper Whitlock. No one knew him, no one understood.

Alice could only come so close. As happy as he was with her, sometimes he couldn't make it be enough. Sometimes, he felt, _he_ wasn't enough for her…

_Still weak_, a voice inside him whispered. _Still so weak. Still so pathetic. No one cares about you… _The voice chuckled cruelly. It sounded like Satan himself.

The thunder crashed loudly and Jasper jumped in terror. He fell off the bed, startling Alice.

And as she was asking him something, probably if he was alright, the thunder kept sounding.

To Jasper, it sounded like cold, cruel laughter.

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**And thus ends this fic. It's sequel, What Is It, Really? is posted on this account also. It was never published on my ohter acount because I've only just written it today.**

**Reviews and ConCrit are most warmly welcome, though flames will be deleted unless they have any fact in them.**


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